My Communist Confession

This is a true story. Recently, a friend of mine was at an event where they were auctioning off a day in Harrisburg with me (It’s been bought, so keep your trust funds where they are). As they announced my name, there was another person sitting at the table who managed my opponent’s campaign in the last election. He had apparently just consumed his first beer ever and yelled out “Who’d want to see Daylin Leach? He’s a communist!!”

It’s been a good while since anyone has accused anyone of being a communist. It’s a little less outdated than calling someone “A Redcoat” or a “Guy who stands erect,” but only a little. At first, I got upset, and tried to deny it. But I can’t live in the shadows anymore. It’s time to come clean: I AM A COMMUNIST!

I just can’t figure out how the guy at this event knew. Did I leave clues? Could it be the fact that I wear a red beret everyday on the House floor? Maybe it was my insistence on referring to the Governor as “Comrade Rendell.” Or perhaps he detected something odd in the first resolution I introduced: “Death to the Bourgeoisie” Day.

The more I think about it, the more careless I realize I was. In a recent newspaper interview, when asked my biggest heroes, I said something like “Catherine Baker Knoll and Che Guevara.” I also probably shouldn’t have hung so many pictures of Marx and Mao in my office, but I thought people would assume that I had them hanging up because they were such handsome men.

Then there were various receptions, when I would ask people to share their shrimp “with the people” (meaning me). Although when asked to share my shrimp, I told people to “kiss off.” I may be a violent, radical revolutionary, but I’m not a fanatic about it.

Perhaps the dead giveaway was the first time I stood to debate on the floor of the House. We were considering a bill when I rose to speak:

Me
Thank you Mr. Comrade Speaker. I rise today to oppose this bill for one reason. This is just the sort of legislation that enables the running dog imperialists to keep their boot on the throats of the proletariat!! You colonialist lackeys of the capitalist swine steal the food from the mouths of the workers to feed your bloated, piggish, decaying system. Well, you will all ROT in the reeducation camps. Our glorious revolution will set up to punish the labor thieves who rob our species being in the service of the CIA Butchers!! VIVA CHE!! VIVA FIDEL!!!! VIVA KNOLL!!!!!…VIVA….

Mr. Comrade Speaker Perzel
Mr. Leach, we’re just naming a bridge.

Long Pause

Me
Oh….Still.

I can’t tell you how relieved I am to finally be free of my secret. My opponent’s former campaign manager ran perhaps the most moronic campaign in history, and, considering the bang-up job he did in my race, could probably only get a job as field coordinator for Little Jimmy Finklestein’s campaign for 3rd grade class treasurer. But I’ve gotta give him his props. He read me like a book.